Marriage On Demand

by Susan Mallery

  Rebecca stood in front of the new Volvo station wagon he'd bought her two days before. Several volunteers loading the vehicle under her careful supervision. At point she turned toward the barn and glanced up. He she could see him standing in the window, but he didn't move back. Their eyes met. He wondered what she was thinking. She didn't smile or wave. She simply stared for a moment, then went back to what she was doing.

  He hadn't seen her smile at him since the wedding. He had no one to blame but himself.

  It would be easy enough to go downstairs and join in. Knowing Rebecca as he did, he was confident she wouldn't object. His helping might even go a long way to bridging the distance that had grown between them. If nothing else, she could use the help. The state had come through with the money to rebuild the children's home, but it would take a while to get the funding in place. In the meantime, the original lot had been cleared and a construction company had given them a break on the cost. Rebecca had met with the town council and together they had decided to earmark the annual Fourth of July carnival proceeds for the construction project. Austin had offered to pick up the tab until they received the state funding, but Rebecca had refused. He wondered if she would have agreed if he'd made the offer before the wedding. Before she'd seen that he'd arranged for them to sleep in separate rooms.

  He continued to stare out the window. Rebecca was gesturing now, motioning to a box. A young man picked it up effortlessly and slipped it into the back of her station wagon. As she smiled her thanks, a shaft of sunlight caught her hair. The silky colors glowed brown, dark blond and red, rippling and changing with each movement of her head. Her skin had turned the color of honey. By the end of summer she would be brown, and there would be freckles on her nose. She would also be showing.

  News of their marriage had swept through the small town of Glenwood. He'd deliberately avoided leaving his property for the past week. He'd known what everyone was saying. Rebecca had also stayed close, but he had a feeling it was more out of convenience rather than a fear of gossip. As innocent as she was, she wasn't expecting people to talk. He had to warn her before she left for the carnival.

  Travis and Elizabeth had been discreet, only mentioning the wedding and not the pregnancy. Time enough for tongues to wag over that tidbit. He didn't care what people said about him; Rebecca was another matter. If she thought talk was rampant about their marriage, wait until people started counting backward from the baby's birth. He clenched his hands into fists and vowed to protect her. Then he released his fingers and called himself a fool.

  Who was he kidding? The person he should protect Rebecca from was himself.

  He'd hurt her by closing off a separate bedroom. He'd seen the flash of pain on her face when he'd first brought her here, and he'd heard it in her voice every day since. He'd hoped to do his best by her, but he might have known he would get it wrong. He'd never been around married people He didn't know what being married meant. He only knew he had to keep Rebecca and the baby safe. If that meant making her unhappy, so be it.

  Except he'd promised to be a good husband to her. He'd vowed to care for her for the rest of their lives. He hadn't even been able to accomplish that for a single day.

  Maybe he should have paid more attention to the married couples he'd known when he was a kid. He frowned and raised his head to stare over the treetops. That wouldn't have helped, he reminded himself. He'd never had a close friend until Travis, and Travis's folks had been bitterly unhappy. Travis's father had made a habit of playing around, spending all his free time pursuing other women and ignoring his family. Not much of a role model there. Austin had no desire to be unfaithful to Rebecca. All he really wanted was to be with her in the most intimate of ways.

  He turned slowly and glanced across the loft to the partitioned-off room. Maybe it had been a bad idea to build the second bedroom without asking her first. Given half a chance, he would jump at the opportunity to have her in his bed. But Rebecca was pregnant. A man was supposed to keep his animal nature to himself at times like these. It was hard enough being in the same house, hearing her footsteps, smelling the sweet scent of her body so close as she passed him in the kitchen. Having her in the same bed would be hell.

  He massaged his temples. All this would have been easier if he hadn't seen the happiness in her eyes when he'd first carried her upstairs. She'd touched him and he'd thought he might explode right there. He'd wanted to take her to his bed, tell her that the separate room was for the baby. She would never have known it was a lie. But he couldn't. For once he was going to do the right thing and treat her as she deserved to be treated. It would be better for both of them.

  So why did the right thing feel so wrong?

  He turned back to the window, but everyone was gone. Then he heard the front door opening and the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Her tread was slow. Was it because she didn't want to face him? He was so damn confused about everything. He'd always known he didn't have a prayer of making a marriage work. That was why he'd always avoided commitment. He was bad at it. All he wanted was to make Rebecca happy. It had only been a week and they were both miserable. Would the kindest act be to let her go?

  In his soul he knew the answer was yes, but his heart begged for mercy. Before he could make up his mind what to do, Rebecca reached the top of the stairs. She stepped onto the loft floor and crossed to where he stood by the window.

  "The car is all loaded," she said, standing close enough h to tempt, close enough to touch, but not touching. Did she torture him on purpose? He wanted to think she did. It would make it easier to dislike her. But he knew better. A kind and giving spirit governed her every action. If she thought her presence in his life caused him pain, she would leave him to the silence. "Austin? What's wrong?"

  He was surprised she knew to ask. Was she getting better at reading him, or was he getting worse at concealing his feelings?

  He looked at her. She wore her hair loose. It fell down her back and moved in counterpoint to the graceful movements of her body. When most women would have worn shorts on such a warm summer's day, she was in a sundress with a full skirt. The peach material brought out the color in her eyes and cheeks. She wore something on her lashes and lips, but no other makeup. Her neck and wrists were bare, as were her hands, save for her wedding ring.

  Without thinking he took her left hand in his. Slender fingers, strong yet feminine, curled around his. He studied the sparkle of the ring, liking the way it looked on her. As he'd wanted their first night together, he'd marked her as his. He'd claimed the woman, if not her body. He would make it be enough.

  "What are you thinking about?" she asked.

  He raised his gaze to hers. So many questions flashed through her eyes. He confused her. She tried to understand him and his moods. She tried so damn hard at everything. Had he even once made it easy?

  "I was remembering our first night together." He shrugged. "I was remembering how innocent you looked dripping on my floor and how I could read everything you were thinking."

  She flushed and ducked her head. "You must have thought I was a real dweeb."

  "I thought you were beautiful and very tempting."

  "You regret that night, don't you?"

  He released her hand and cupped her chin. Slowly he lifted her head until their eyes met. He owed her, so for once he would tell her the truth. "I regret the loss of your virginity and that I got you pregnant. I don't regret the baby. "

  "I don't understand."

  "You should have saved yourself for someone you loved."

  "You don't believe in love."

  He smiled slightly. "You do."

  "Okay. That sort of makes sense, but how can you be sorry you got me pregnant and not regret the baby?"

  "I took away your choice, but the child is something special. I never thought I'd have that chance."

  Her eyes misted over. He told himself it was an emotional reaction that had everything to do with hormones and nothing to do with him. He had a feeling he was
lying, but he couldn't accept any other truth right now. He was already having enough trouble sleeping at night.

  Her lips parted slightly. He could see her white teeth and the tip of her tongue. It would be so easy to bend forward and cover her mouth with his. Too easy. He drew back.

  "You're leaving for the carnival?" he asked.

  She nodded.

  He folded his arms over his chest. "You need to be prepared for the talk."

  "Oh. You mean people whispering that I trapped you into marriage? I probably deserve it."

  He thought he'd taken care of her concerns about having "trapped" him, but obviously he hadn't. He wanted to assure her that was the last thing he was worried about. He couldn't. Then she would take heart and think there was a chance of making it work. She would only get hurt more. He had to keep her away from him for as long as possible. Better for her to leave because he was a heartless bastard than for her to stay and find out the truth. Her leaving then would destroy what was left of him.

  "I doubt they'll have time to even think about that," he said, trying to keep his voice casual. "I have a certain reputation in town."

  She smiled, some of the worry leaving her eyes. "I know."

  "People are going to speculate about why I chose you."

  "But I'm pregnant. Why else?"

  "Travis and Elizabeth haven't told anyone. Unless you've been spreading the news, all anyone is going to have is news of the wedding. Nothing else. I just want you to be prepared for some unpleasant questions."

  She glanced down at herself. After smoothing the front of her dress and brushing her hair off her shoulders, she looked up at him. Before he could step back, she closed the distance between them and touched his earring.

  She was close enough that he could see the smoothness of her skin and feel her sweet breath on his face. Her smile made him want to pull her hard against him and hold her until the rest of the world faded like a bad memory.

  "You mean they'll want to know why the town bad boy hooked up with innocent little Rebecca Chambers?"

  "Exactly. Except it's Rebecca Lucas now."

  "Is it?" she asked, her smile fading. "I suppose technically I am your wife." She dropped her hand and turned away. "All right, Austin. Thanks for the warning. I'll be on my guard against the gossip. I'd better leave. I'd hate the carnival to start without me."

  "Rebecca, I'm sorry," he said, feeling her pain, but not knowing what to do about it. "I wish—"

  "Don't," she said. When she reached the stairs, she looked at him. "I don't want to talk about it today. The sun is shining, the weather is warm. There's too much fun waiting to be had for us to talk about this now." She tilted her head slightly. "What are you going to do today?"

  He stood stiffly, trying to act casual. He didn't want her to go, but he had no right to ask her to stay. "I have a couple of experiments I've been working on."

  "Oh. All right. I'll probably be late." She hesitated, one foot on the stairs, the other on the hardwood floor. She opened her mouth and closed it, then muttered something that sounded surprisingly like "damn". Only Rebecca never swore. "Do you want to come with me?" she asked quickly. "You don't have to, of course. I just thought it is the Fourth of July and I hate to think of you here by yourself. It's not just that. I'd like us to be together and—" She clamped her mouth shut. "Forget it. It was a dumb idea."

  He shouldn't go. The more time he spent with her, the harder it was to turn away from her at night. The more they were together, the more he hurt her and the closer he came to his own self-destruction. Besides, he hated carnivals.

  She started down the stairs. He tried to look away, but he could see the slump of her should en

  "Rebecca," he called before he could stop himself.

  She paused. Before he could think of a nice way to say no, she held out her hand. She didn't speak; she didn't have to. The pull of her offer was as powerful as the tide. He moved toward her, a single wave being drawn away from the safety of the shore and back into the welcoming depths of the ocean.

  It was just one day, he reminded himself. She was his wife. It was his duty to be with her. His acceptance had nothing to do with the warm feeling of contentment that began inside of him, growing large enough to start filling the black hole of his soul.

  * * *

  Rebecca waited while Austin dropped off the last of the supplies she'd brought. He wouldn't even let her carry the paper bag filled with napkins.

  "I'm pregnant, not dying," she said, planting her hands on her hips and trying to glare at him. It didn't work. All he had to do was raise one eyebrow in that way of his and she melted like a snow cone in the early July heat.

  "Stop arguing," he said pleasantly. "The quicker you leave me alone to finish this, the quicker I'll be done and we can go get some of the cotton candy you've been eyeing."

  He picked up a heavy box containing canned goods for the cooking booth. His muscles flexed underneath his cream polo shirt. She watched the shifting in his arms and back, and felt herself grow weak at the knees. No matter how he'd rejected her, despite the long talks she'd had with herself as she'd lain alone in her solitary, cold bed, he got to her. He always had. She had a feeling he always would.

  When the last box was on the counter of the booth, Austin turned to her. "Anything else?"

  She shook her head. "We're done." She glanced at the workers inside, already starting on the chili. "I'll be back in a couple of hours to spell someone."

  Mary glanced up, her gray hair curling around her face. "Don't worry about me. I plan to spend my day right here. I'm sure some of the youngsters would like a break. But first you go have some fun. You've been working too hard. Austin, I expect you to show your bride a good time."

  Rebecca held her breath, worried he wouldn't appreciate the older woman's good-natured interference. He surprised her by smiling and tipping an imaginary hat. "Yes, ma'am. I'll do just that." He glanced at Rebecca. "All right, bride, where do you want to go first?"

  "There," she said, pointing to the cotton-candy kiosk set up by the tallest of the roller coasters.

  As they crossed over to the stand, he frowned slightly. "Are you sure it's safe for you to eat?"

  "I'm fine," she said, taking her place in line. "I haven't had a moment's morning sickness. I feel great."

  She had a few symptoms of pregnancy, but she didn't want to go into detail now. Her breasts seemed a little bigger to her, and they were tender. She got tired in the middle of the afternoon. Part of her wanted to share her small discoveries with him; part of her didn't want to find out he didn't care. It was easier to hold it all inside and wait until she knew for sure.

  Around them crowds of people surged in different directions. Teenagers lined up for the wild rides. Adults tried their skills at several games. Pies, cakes, jams and preserves, along with photographs, quilts and farm animals were being judged in the two main pavilions. Tonight a local country band would provide entertainment. A dance floor was being set up around seven, with fireworks to follow at dusk.

  How long would Austin want to stay? Would he dance with her in the moonlight or would he find an excuse to avoid her?

  Before she could decide, the ten-year-old in front of her paid for his cotton candy and it was her turn. She pointed to one of the sugary treats. Before she could slip her purse off her shoulder to pay, Austin passed the man a bill.

  "Thank you," she said, faintly surprised.

  "My pleasure. Is that your lunch?"

  "Yes, but I had an extra serving of vegetables last night, and I promise to behave at dinner." She pinched off a wisp of the pink floss and stuck it in her mouth. "So there."

  He shook his head. "You're awful."

  "I know. Isn't it great?"

  Without thinking she swirled a thin length of the candy around her index finger and offered it to him. Their eyes met. Her good humor faded as she steeled herself to be rejected yet again.

  His gray eyes darkened with an emotion she couldn't identify. For a m
oment she thought it might be pain, but that wasn't right. Why would her simple gesture hurt him? She studied the handsome lines of his face, the hollow cheeks, the firm jaw and straight mouth, and wondered why it had to be him. Why couldn't she have fallen for someone less complicated?

  The sounds of the carnival – the screams from the people on the rides, the call of the barkers, the excited conversations disappeared. The world seemed to stop and tilt slightly until she wasn't sure she could maintain her balance. The wisp of cotton candy trembled in the warm afternoon breeze.

  Then Austin leaned forward and took the treat in his mouth. His warm lips closed around her finger, his tongue swept her skin clean. Tingling rippled through her, from her hand clear down to that secret place that ached for him.

  His eyes held her captive. Slowly, as if he feared she would run away, he raised his hand to her face. He cupped her chin, touching her reverently. She wanted to weep at his gentleness. He brushed her hair back, smoothing it over and over again. Her gaze dropped to his mouth and she silently begged him to kiss her.

  Their bodies didn't move, yet they strained toward each other. Her heart ached. Sexually her body was ready to be taken by him, but even stronger than that was the flood of tenderness. She wanted to hold and be held, to protect and be protected, to find refuge and to provide a haven. She wanted him to let her in enough for her to fall in love with him.

  Impulsively she decided to tell him. "Austin, I—"

  "Well, well. I'd heard the rumors, but I hadn't thought they could be true."

  Austin dropped his arm to his side as if he'd been scalded. He turned toward the voice. Rebecca looked, as well, then wished she hadn't. It was the redhead. The one in the fancy car who had driven to Austin's house twice a weak for months.

  "Jasmine," he said. "What are you doing here?"

  The woman smiled, revealing even, white teeth and not one wrinkle in her classically beautiful face. Rebecca stared at her perfectly made-up eyes, at the coral-colored lipstick, then lower at the knit shirt clinging to large, well-shaped breasts. Her confidence nose-dived into her shoes and whimpered.